


Not a 20th-century Man

by MadameBizarre



Series: Late Kinktober 2017 [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Edward is a big man, Grinding, M/M, Size Kink, but of course Jack is no weakling either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14251320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameBizarre/pseuds/MadameBizarre
Summary: “Times were so different when I was a young adult. Perversion then had no hand at what is accepted in these days. Why, when I was seventeen and told I needed to have us a heir, I merely thought of the family blood, not the act itself; and let me tell you I --”“Jack, I love you, but shut up and get to grinding.”





	Not a 20th-century Man

“Times were so different when I was a young adult. Perversion then had no hand at what is accepted in these days. Why, when I was seventeen and told I needed to have us a heir, I merely thought of the family blood, not the act itself; and let me tell you I --”

“Jack, I love you, but shut up and get to grinding.”

From his seat atop his faithful bodyguard, Jack had no doubt that the burning flush spreading over his cheeks was obvious. In his embarrassment all the warmth from their heated rough playing a few moments earlier was sucked out of him and pushed into his face. Edward of course noticed, amused, and soon one large palm was now over own of the scientist's -- both of which laid flat on either firm pectoral below him. Compared to his now clammy and chilled skin, the weathered and torn hand is a welcomed sensation, warm and gentle as Edward rubs his thumb over Jack’s wrist; truly it was odd how he was perfectly fine in his underwear, socks, and garters through the whole debacle until now.

“R-Right, right, sorry….”

“Also, you’re a damn dirty liar, like you’ve never thought of  _ sex  _ back in the day. All men, no matter the century, wanna fuck.”

His words are vulgar just like Jack hates, but there is no scolding from his boss in this situation. Jack seems to duck behind his shoulders like a turtle into its shell -- or crab since he is all red. Leave it to Jack to get nervous and start rambling in the midst of foreplay and leave Edward with a hefty erection being squashed underneath the other man’s. 

With his free hand, Edward grips the scientist’s hip and rubs circles into the dip of his pelvis; the mere sight of it having his mouth water. So smooth and pale, begging to be bitten. He tears his eyes from the alluring canvas of soft flesh and muscle that is Jack Cabot, instead focusing on brown eyes with his own bloody ones.

“Come on Jack, show me how much you wanna fuck. Roll those hips for me.”

The boiling in his abdomen is back alongside the ache between his thighs, causing Jack to feel the old flush of shame that young 20th century him would have wallowed in, but this isn’t then. This is the wasteland, and he is a three-hundred year-old man in dire need of sexual release with the large, hulking, man of his feverish dreams. There is no time for shame as lust eases heat through his veins, possessing him to give a small jerk forward. It’s timid and a tad unbalanced, only saved by the large hand on his hip keeping him steady, but it continues once, twice, thrice more, before Jack gets the hang of it, using his whole back to get into a nice rolling motion. His stomach dips in, his shoulders surge forward; his back arches forward, his shoulders ease down. Soon there is a rhythm as he presses down on  the hard erection pressing back against his. The target is not hard to miss, the bulge under Edward’s dark briefs is plump, more so than Jack’s own and he swears he sees it twitch -- even  _ feels  _ it do so. 

The electric rush of pleasure erases any unease, instead clogging his head with wanton delight that is reflected on his face. A heavy gaze downward shows the devious smirk and furrow of brows that is his ghoul lover and friend, and for a fleeting moment Jack worries that his own expression is just as lewd, but then both his hips are captured and a thrust upward sends his head back with a warbled moan.

“You look so damn pretty all hot ‘n bothered, Jack.” Edward grunts -- shoulders pressed into the mattress with every thrust to meet the scientist’s own (only  half the strength nor distance as it could be).

Pale fingers are barely able to hold the large, dark wrists between two and three grouped fingers, and nails dig into the already ruined flesh; frightened and aroused, Jack realizes that both hands at his hips are covering over more than just that, but also the beginning of his thighs that rub against the end of Edward’s palms, and his fingers so long that thumbs caress over the fall of his pelvis close th base of his erection. He is bigger, in all physical ways, than Jack could ever desire to be, but he knows that does not make him any less of a man.

“D-Don’t...patronize...me.” 

“What? Don’t like to be pretty?” The Ghoul’s words are coherent though they are  labored just as much as Jack’s own. “You’re drooling babe with your face is is all red like a cherry, and don’t get me started on those pretty blues. You want me to think otherwise,  _ make me. _ .”

There was nothing wrong with being complimented: handsome, pretty, roguish, strapping, they all flatter the person, but with the way Edward growls the word, and Jack knowing for a fact that he  _ isn’t  _ wrong, pisses the scientist off. Jack is much more, and if he has to coax it out of him, so be it as a test of poweress. Hands slide up Edward’s lower arms, stopping only to grab for the elastic band that is his dark briefs. With curt tug, the head of the ghoul’s erection is revealed -- thick and red from their grinding. 

It only takes a simple squeeze from Jack’s hand against his bodyguard’s wrist to have the latter pull both hands away; physically big, yes, but compared to the serum’s enhancements, all those muscles mean nothing to Jack who begins to knee his way downward until he claims Edward’s meaty thighs as his throne. “Very well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Edward melts at the soft press of lips upon his chest. They sloppily follow the trail that separates his pectorals and abdomen until finally reaching the pulsing head of his cock with his back curled over. A drifting thought of regret floats in and out of his mind though, knowing that Jack would have loved his trimmed happy-trail back when he was human, but now there is only charred skin. Nonetheless, his lover pushes the thought away, licking the flat of his over the crease of his erection’s tip. Edward hisses, more sensitive than either of them thought. The shit-eating smirk that is Jack Cabot’s lips, and look upward of blue eyes is annoying, yet welcomed. Even as his tongue darts out, giving quick, wet stripes in every direction and angle, the ghoul happily bites his bottom lip and gazes right back with his blood filled eyes that were once a bright green. 

His already inhumanly warm body reaches it’s next peak of heat, the flame of desire that Jack lights in him now fanned into a full grown fire. He’s taken into the other man’s hot mouth, and Edward’s annoyance also peaks from the gentle suction that teases him. His hands hold Jack’s head, urging him to go lower, but it's obvious that the scientist is much stronger than him; damn immortal bastard.

“C-Come on Jack...I-I’ll apol-- ...apologize.” He grunts out from between his teeth. When there is no answer nor move to comply, Edward’s shoulders squirm side to side into the mattress. The heavy stroke down the still covered half of his erection from a hand is almost painful.

“I’M SORRY!  _ DAMN IT JACK _ ! You’re not just pretty, you’re….” And when he meets Jack’s gaze once more, Edward’s breath catches. He lets one hand comb through dark locks, pushing them out the messy pile they were over Jack’s forehead, and drinks the still flushed cheeks, sweaty face that is his lover.

“You’re tantalizing…”

Rolling his eyes, Jack lifts up just a bit so to speak. “Not the word I was looking for, but it will have to do.” His fingers curl around the ghoul’s that dwarf his by two sizes, pulling one to cup his cheek. The whole hand can engulf a little more than half his face, and the tarnished texture of skin could make the bravest of men terrified, but not Jack. He leans into the touch, the caress of a thumb just under his eye, and sighs dreamily.

“You big, infuriating bastard….”

“Hey now, I’d prefer being called pretty.” Edward’s body shakes with laughter.

No, his bodyguard isn’t pretty, ghoulism isn’t nice like that, and Jack can not lie to him about it either, because they both know better. Still, after all these years…. “You are more….roguish than anything. Even now,  you’re the big, roguish, brute I love.” And if ghouls could blush, Jack knew Edward was now.

“Well mister Cabot, flattery  _ can  _ get you many places with me, but the big three words?” The ghoul sits up on one stretched out arm -- Jack following to slouch over his knees so his cheek can still be held.

“That’s worth a whole lot more than anything I’ve ever offered in all my years.”

And the kiss that follows almost has them bashing noses as the duo go in at the same time. A sting of teeth clattering is nothing compared to the all encompassing storm of ecstasy that burns through their veins at lightning fast speed, and thunderous pulse of rapture pounding in their bodies. Jack knows how depraved he sounds as tries his best to keep lip-locked with his lover, but it doesn’t matter. It never did, he’s shameless when it comes to Edward and the small sanctuary that is their home in a apocalyptic world and further. Eagerly he takes what little air he can with each small pull away Edward gives them to breath, mindless of the sickening smack of their lips and heavy gasps between them. Sweat begins to drip off his jaw, an overbearing heat that is more than lust overcoming him. Finally when Jack can’t take the asphyxiation of kissing and the fire that is Edward’s body, they sit there in deafening silence for what feels like eternity while breathing over eachother’s mouth.

.

.

.

“Take it all  _ off  _ and  _ turn around _ .” Edward snarls almost as if he is on the edge of becoming feral. Jack doesn’t waste time with words, fumbling around what is left on his body with help from his lover. Seething hot hands on his sweaty body push his shoulders to turn and grabs one leg to send him falling onto his stomach with a  _ THUD! _ Knowing there is little time before things escalate,  he takes off his glasses to set them at the desk at the bed’s end that is barely in reach.

The plunge and shake of the bed is enough to tell him that they are both naked; once more the fiery touches of the ghoul’s radiated skin is all over him, chest pressed to back, hand bracing on his shoulder as the other dips between them to prepare the smooth skinned man. Any coldness that is lube against his backside is gone in mere seconds from the ghoul and his own internal body heat. 

“Da-Dammit --Edward! You’re burning up!” Jack balls his fist into the covers and his back tenses; the intruding finger stretches him with a pricking sensation though it is not the first time they have done this. 

A second cooling finger joins the first in no time, sending the scientist’s body trembling. “Bear with me babe, you’ve got me all riled up.” Hot breath is at Jack’s ear, flowing over his neck and shoulder.

He does, because it’s normal for the ghoul’s body to be twice as warm as a regular human’s, and the rush of dopamine in Edward only makes it worse. The endorphins rushing in Jack’s own mess of a body helps atleast, not just with the pain, but the motivation to ignore everything else that is uncomfortable. Jack bears the lapping flames of lust, and the strain of being penetrated, like a champ, with only a groan that is choked off as he is filled inch by inch until finally his lover’s pelvis is pressed against his ass.

“Brace yourself Jack, and try not to scream like last time.” A simple tease sets both their nerves on a different sort of edge before Edward pulls his hips back,  _ slowly _ , in a long arch backwards and upwards.

It must have taken one thrust forward to set his head dizzying into madness, because Jack loses track of time and control over himself. All his mind can think of Edward. Large, strong Edward who is on top of him like a bear, a pile of lumber, an anchor which keeps him from floating away. With thick rough textured hands that cover his mouth (was he screaming again?), gagging him with the tight muscle that is his palm. The other hand is cradling his abandoned erection, the grooves of ripped, torned, radiated,  _ scorching,  _ flesh rubbing all over it to bring Jack to completion. A million doses of serum (and he must be getting close to it) could never help him match he ghoul’s size, and Jack finds he can live with that. If it means more nights covered completely under the security that his beloved Edward, then the heavens are no place for him at the end. No angel could sing his name over and over again like Edward, nor could any other cloud nine send his entire being over the edge into sweet release like Edward either. 

The fading ebbs of ecstasy morphs into dull pain and soreness at the crook of his neck and...well his entire body, but the sensation at his neck is obviously a hefty bite mark, and the disgustingly, dripping feeling is proof of how deep it is. 

Over the roaring gasps and wheezing that is Edward by his ear, Jack begins to speak: “Edward you brute --” But it is then that he realizes how broke, hoarse, and small his voice is: had he truly been  _ that  _ loud?

“A little...love bite...doesn’t...hurt.” The ghoul barely chuckles between his breathes -- his own voice hoarse more than usual into an animalistic octave. Jack finds comfort in it, proof he was not the only one to be vocal though most likest the loudest.

“Yes it does...like a  _ bitch _ .” Red droplets sink into the sheets, causing Jack to do his best from under the hulking form of his bodyguard  to see the damage done. The mattress is off centered, the fitted sheets undone from the corners, blankets strewn half on the bed and on the floor, and the table in front of him has books fallen over. Out of place from where he put them, his glasses are also on the floor now.

“You know I love you, Jack.” 

“Yes, yes, I love you too Edward.”

And Jack finds his grin feels like that of an young, 20th-century man as a kiss (thin and hard) is pressed firmly on his jaw.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was made like back in December 2017, but I've been all over the place since then with classwork and self-care. I'm not TOO satisfied with what is here, but it's something and makes way for more stuff to write.
> 
> Expect an Edward/Jack/F!SS sometime in the near future where we will see Jack being introduced to steamy threesomes!


End file.
